G.O.P. Fitness Training at the Fox News Gym

Last night’s two-hour Republican debate from Ames, Iowa, was an entertaining exercise in The Survival of the Fittest, Herbert Spencer’s proto-libertarian take on Darwin—the only form of Darwinism that today’s Republicans can safely embrace.

The goal of the exercise, it seemed to me, was to cull the herd, so as to eliminate the weak and the stragglers and thereby ensure that the ultimate survivor will be the one best able to destroy the common enemy of everyone on the stage (eight candidates, four questioners) and, judging from the whooping and hollering, everyone in the audience, too: the President of the United States, Barack Obama.

That goal is a joint project of the Republican Party and the debate’s sponsor, organizer, and broadcaster, the Fox News Network. The unwary might therefore have reasonably expected the questions to be softballs calculated to help the candidates preen and prance, putting on a happy face for one another and directing their scowls and growls exclusively at the archfiend in the White House.

But no. The questions were tough—surprisingly tough, I thought. But, for the most part, they were tough only in a particular way. They were not so tough in matters of what one might laughingly call substance—that is, in matters of policy outside the ideological cocoon of current Party orthodoxy. For example, no questioner challenged the assumption that, in a time of mass unemployment, it is a good idea to pump money into the economy by cutting rich people’s taxes (and deficits be damned) while simultaneously sucking money out of the economy by gutting infrastructure projects and cutting poor and middle-class people’s benefits. Substance-wise, this was like watching Vladimir Putin debate himself on Russian state television.

The only apparent exceptions last night to the rule of substantive orthodoxy were military spending, abortion, and gays. But they aren’t really exceptions. With inward-looking isolationism making a comeback on the right, endless wars are no longer the consensus Republican position they were back when Ron Paul was the sole dissenter and neocon imperial triumphalism reigned supreme. It’s just as O.K. to say that Pentagon spending has to be “on the table” or “part of the conversation” as it is to say that cutting said spending would be tantamount to surrender.

On abortion, the “pro-life” orthodoxy—i.e., that a woman has no right to choose whether or not to end an unwanted pregnancy—remains in place. But a few Republican politicians (and a substantial number of Republican voters) still have qualms about treating a young girl who gets an abortion after being raped by her father as a criminal. The discussion produced the otherwise hapless Rick Santorum’s only eloquent (if politically suicidal) moment, when he passionately defended the maximalist position. (Needless to say, though, he was incapable of recognizing the cruelty of that position, blithely maintaining that forcing a raped woman to carry a fetus to term would be an act of kindness, as it would spare her “a second trauma.”)

Same-sex marriage, too, remains a no-no. But Jon Huntsman, the other Mormon in the race, defended (or at least acknowledged) his support for civil unions. He even went so far as to say, “I believe our nation can do a better job with equality.” Far out! Everybody is against gay marriage as a matter of personal opinion, but there is a genuine difference between those who want it banned at the federal level (like Michele Bachmann) and those who worry that such a ban would infringe on “states’ rights.” Tonally, too, there are further cracks in the Republican ice. Rick (“man on dog”) Santorum actually faulted the Iranian regime on the grounds that it “tramples the rights of gays.”

So what were the “tough” questions? Newt Gingrich nailed it: almost without exception, they were “gotcha” questions, confronting the candidates with past embarrassments (such as the mass exodus of Gingrich’s campaign staffers) or past statements or actions at variance with the orthodoxy (such as countenancing tax hikes or supporting cap-and-trade). As such, they served the ultimate goal of the Party and its Fox News auxiliary by testing the candidates’ ability to handle the kind of questions preferred by the political press corps.

So who were the fittest, the ones that might survive? Well, there were three who, it seemed to me, demonstrated that they might have a chance at the nomination. There was Michele Bachmann. Expectations were high for her—in the only previous debate, she had surprised everybody by vaulting over the absent Sarah Palin and quickly making herself the Iowa frontrunner—and she fulfilled them, even surpassed them. She was never rattled, and she serenely reeled off one extremist bromide after another. There was Romney, who went into the debate as the national frontrunner and probably came out of it the same way. He “looked Presidential,” doncha know. And there was Rick Perry, who, not yet being an officially declared candidate, wasn’t in the room.

What about the rest? Tim Pawlenty continued his slide toward oblivion. Going after Bachmann, not for being wrong or an extremist but for being “ineffective,” T-Paw came across as querulous and a trifle desperate. Gingrich pulled off a good, angry performance, showcasing his trademark patronizing contempt, but his attacks on the press and its gotcha questions felt weird, given that the journalists asking those questions were representatives of the conservative, not the “liberal,” media. Anyway, there is probably nothing Newt Gingrich can say that would overcome his greatest liability, which is that he is Newt Gingrich. Santorum was mostly just sad, wanly complaining that he wasn’t getting as much time as the big kids. Herman Cain and Ron Paul were, as always, charming. Nobody wants to give either of them a hard time. Cain offers Republicans the comfort of imagining that theirs is not a white man’s (and woman’s, to be fair) party. Paul’s delightful heresies—his denunciations of “militarism,” even his suggestion that Iran might have understandable reasons for wanting nukes and it might not be so terrible if they got one—are tolerated as the lovable eccentricities of a cranky but harmless uncle.

I was most curious about Huntsman, whom I hadn’t before seen in action. I’ve assumed all along that he knows he has no chance in 2012 and is actually auditioning for the 2016 race, figuring that if Obama is reelected the G.O.P. might be open to nominating a relative moderate. I was a little shocked at how poorly he performed last night. He had an unexpectedly (to me) prissy air about him, notwithstanding all the motorcycle riding. He looked and sounded unhappy and unsure of himself. If indeed 2016 is to be his Carnegie Hall, he’d better practice, practice, practice. And then practice some more.

However reluctant I am to say anything nice about the Fox News message machine, I have to tip my hat to Byron York and Bret Baier for orchestrating the most revealing moment of the evening. They held a kind of auction. York, who was questioning Santorum, asked, “Is there any ratio of cuts to taxes that you would accept? Three to one? Four to one? Or even ten to one?” “No,” came the reply. Baier put the question to the rest: “Who on this stage would walk away from that deal? Can you raise your hand if you feel so strongly about not raising taxes you’d walk away on the ten-to-one deal?”

The agent’s dismissal gives the appearance that the agency buckled under political pressure, and sets a highly disturbing precedent.

Asian-Americans, a largely made-up group united by historical marginalization, are desperate for a movie like this one to be perfect, because the opportunity to make another might not arrive for another quarter century.